


fireflies to bring us home

by ra69



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ra69/pseuds/ra69
Summary: 'Going home with Phil was more of a last minute decision, but it felt right. One adventure ending and another beginning so soon after, side by side with his only ally.'Technoblade tries to find his place in Phil's family.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	fireflies to bring us home

Every morning before the sun had risen and the dew had dried, Technoblade would get up, don his cloak and walk around the forest.

In the days of the Antarctic empire, he and Phil would patrol together. Two soldiers, together against the world, boots crunching through ice and snow to make sure their land was safe. As shitty and cold and awful as it could be, the tundra was their home, their base, a land they had claimed and were intent to keep.

The dew that coated the grass beneath his feet didn’t break like the snow used to, but the chill in the air and the gradient of the rising sun were reminiscent of what was once his home.

The war was over though; it had been for months. All that was left now was their stories and their scars.

Going home with Phil was more of a last minute decision, but it felt right. One adventure ending and another beginning so soon after, side by side with his only ally.  
By the time he’d made his rounds, the sun had risen enough to wake the forest’s creatures, light filing through the tree’s canopy.

Music began to fill the air as Phil’s house came into view, low and sweet notes of his son’s guitar. Wilbur was sitting on the grass outside, eyes turned down on the strings as he played. Techno walked past, perfectly comfortable in ignoring the sudden stop in music as Wilbur watched him go.

A plate of eggs and toast were slid across the counter as he walked into the kitchen, Phil himself sipping at a cup of steaming coffee. Techno leaned back against the counter, giving Phil a slight nod as he lifted the plate and dug in.

As they stood in silence, Techno observed Phil through his peripheral. Since they returned, Phil had a new sense of peace to him. Not being on a constant battlefield would do that to someone.

It could also be the safety of home and family. Probably all of the above, Techno thought to himself while chewing on his eggs.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” The silence was broken with a tease, Techno lightly bumping his elbow against Phil’s arm.

“Bullshit. I’ve made us food every day for the past two years!” Phil returned Techno’s playful jab with his own, grins finding their faces as they fell back into their familiar routine.

“I don’t know if I’d call that cooking. I mean it’s not like there were a lot of other options-”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” Phil’s hand slapped against his forearm, the both of them breaking into laughter.

When silence fell back over the room, Phil shrugged.”I didn’t make those anyway. Will did.”

“Oh.” Techno looked down at his empty plate, feeling strange. “He did.”

Phil gave Techno a sideways look. “He did.” 

“Cool.”

“And he asked me to give that plate directly to you.”

“Cool.”

“Techno-”

The hybrid made a face, not enjoying the tone Phil was using. “Your kids are weird.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try and talk to him. They don’t bite.”

Techno was quiet, frowning as he set his plate aside. “Tommy might.”

Phil snorted into his coffee, nodding. “Tommy might. But you and Will would get along, I think. Just give things a chance.”

“...fine.” 

The older man seemed appeased at Techno’s reluctant forfeit. He took a sip of coffee and breathed out through his nose, causing light ripples in the liquid. 

“Your kids are weird.” Phil repeated, humor on his tongue. “He made you breakfast.”

“I’ll see you later, Phil.” Techno said as he left the kitchen, trying not to be obvious in how he was fleeing the conversation. 

As he entered the living room, Techno hung up his cloak and immediately walked to the reading corner, sitting on the padded bench that was built into the wall and examining the scene outside. While he had been eating breakfast, the world had woken up even more, the clear sky now more pigmented and the grass outside free from dew. Muted through the walls came the slow notes of Wilbur’s guitar outside, the boy himself still sitting in the lawn with an open notebook and his instrument.

Phil was right, as he usually was. Techno and Wilbur would probably get along, if they got to talking. That was the problem: Talking.

There wasn’t a lot that could openly intimidate him, but the idea of talking to Wilbur was something daunting. 

It was clear that the oldest of Phil’s children didn’t like him very much. Or he could’ve been socially awkward. Something they had in common.

He’d been staring out the window for a few minutes, eyes flitting between the sky and the occupant of his thoughts mindlessly. Besides the quiet sounds of Wilbur outside and Phil’s movements in the kitchen, everything seemed to be at peace. Clouds outside, as few and far between as they were, seemed to crawl along the azure horizon at a snail’s pace.

Just as Techno thought about the innate peace that quiet mornings could bring, Phil’s youngest son woke up.

“GOOD MORNING FAMILY!” A blur of blond hair and red pyjamas flew down the hall, Tommy sliding less than gracefully into view and diving into the kitchen the moment he had footing. Tubbo, Phil’s second youngest, followed a few seconds later in a far less energetic fashion. With a hand on the wall to guide himself down while rubbing sleep from his eyes, Tubbo stopped just outside the kitchen door, staring at Technoblade with a confused expression. 

If talking to Wilbur was daunting, interacting with the other two was a nightmare. There was something unsettling about talking to any of the three, but Techno wasn’t able to put his finger on what it could be. He liked to joke that it was because they were ex-orphans, but that was a distraction from the truth. Whatever the truth could’ve been.  
“Good morning, Technoblade.” Tubbo gave him a little smile before trailing after Tommy. Techno felt his muscles tense as the child spoke to him, standing up after the brunet disappeared and fleeing out the front door.

He once again paid Wilbur no mind as he walked down the path from the house, head buzzing as he jammed his hands into his pockets and let his feet take him where they would.

Techno didn’t have much thought as he walked through the forest for the second time that day, stopping only when he came to the bank of a river, rocks clacking against each other under his feet. The sound of rushing water helped clear his anxiety a little, the sight of the water doing its part as well. There was a fallen tree a ways upstream, bridging the gap between the two banks. In a few moments Techno was sitting on the hollow wood, letting the cold water rush around his ankles and bring him back to reality. The river’s current was surprisingly strong, his legs being tugged more forcefully than expected. 

He felt pretty stupid, being so easily overwhelmed by something so small as a child giving him a greeting. His feelings didn’t change the reality of it though, and he was left to marinate in his thoughts. With the calming feel and sound of the river aiding him, Techno felt his mind calm and slow, the uncomfortable buzzing sensation of his head dulling to a low vibrate. Time became a contradicting pace, feeling bodily slow while the world around him moved at a lightning pace. 

The sound of rustling leaves and breaking twigs pulled him from his resting state. Techno twisting his head to the side so quickly it caused a twinge of pain in the muscles in his neck.

He was met with a wide-eyed look from Wilbur, the other teen looking just as caught off guard as Techno felt. He was making a lot of eye contact today.

Wilbur slid his guitar off his back, leaning it up against a nearby tree with the journal right beside it. The tree beneath Techno began to wobble as Wilbur carefully made his way along, sitting down next to him with his legs crisscrossed.

They were both quiet, unsure how to break the thick wall of silence that had already been built between them. The problem would always be talking, less getting the ball rolling and more pushing it through clay mud.

“I’ve got to hand it to the river.” Wilbur was the one to break the silence, starting out sardonic. “Without the water, this silence would be oppressive.”

His words startled a laugh out of Techno, the piglin hybrid giving Wilbur a stunted nod. 

“Nature is really carrying this interaction right now.” He agreed, snickering when Wilbur let out a chuckle. A sense of camaraderie fell over the scene as they both let out a breath neither realized they’d been holding.

“What are you doing out here?” Wilbur didn’t look at him, eyes trained down on the warped rocks under the water’s flow.

What was he doing? Running from a child, mostly. Hiding from his thoughts. What appeared to be the usual.

“Felt like taking a walk.” Techno responded, looking off to the side and away from his companion.

“Mhm.” This was definitely Phil’s kid, what with the same tone that let you know he knew that you were lying through your teeth. If Techno could build up the courage to look, he knew Wilbur would have the same expression, too. Willing to let it go, but not with letting him think that he’d pulled the wool over his eyes.

“What about you?” Wilbur definitely wouldn’t see through such a transparent distraction.

“Felt like taking a walk.” Techno supposed that was fair, having his own rebuff thrown back in his face.

Silence fell back over the two, though it was comfortably strained. The type of quiet where nervous energy lit red embers underneath a crackling fire of fellowship.  
“I heard you playing this morning.” When in doubt, change the subject. “It sounded good.”

“Thanks. I just started something new.” Wilbur looked over at the journal next to his guitar, fingers twitching a little from where they rested in his lap. 

“...cool.” What would Phil say in this situation? Something kind or witty, probably. A quip or phrase to ease the tension. “What’s it about?”

Wilbur looked back down into the rushing water, head tilted ever so slightly.

“I don’t know yet. I’ve got a few ideas but they don’t sound right when I put them to paper.”

Techno wasn’t much of an artist, unless you counted slaughter and murder a form of art. He wasn’t sure what to say in the face of Wilbur’s frustration, ear twitching as a bird took flight nearby.

“Well-”

“How old are you, anyway?” What would’ve been a pitiful attempt at comfort was overshadowed by Wilbur’s question. Techno couldn’t’ve asked for better timing. 

“Uhh…” He let the syllables drag on while thinking of an answer. How old was he? That wasn’t a question he’d ever need an answer to before this moment. No one had ever told him his age, and it didn’t seem that important anyway. 

“I don’t know.”

Wilbur gave him a deadpan look, faltering when he looked at Techno and saw the seriousness on his face.

“Oh. You really don’t know?”

Techno shrugged and looked away, swinging his leg back against the flow of the ice cold water.

“Didn’t seem that important.”

He was met with cumbersome silence, though Wilbur looked more contemplative than upset.

Was knowing how old he was really so important? He had never slowed down to consider something so small as how long he’d been around on the earth he had soaked in blood. There was always something more important. A battle to win, or something like that.

Quiet nights that could be used to think were usually reserved for a mental blankness, a type of relaxation he didn’t often get to partake in. A crackling fire nearby while he could stare into the stars, letting worries melt away as the swirling galaxies above became his only comprehension. 

“Are you hungry?” Wilbur shifted on the hollow log, causing it to wobble underneath them. The piglin hybrid looked up, shrugging lightly.

“Not really.”

“Well I am.” Wilbur shifted a small bag that Techno hadn’t seen before into his lap. It was a brown fabric, small patches stitched into the front. There was a set of poorly done stitching across the bottom of the bag that read, “Tommy wa here.” Techno figured it was supposed to say that Tommy was there, but over time the thread had been tugged out.  
There was a variety of other stitching in the brown fabric, like a nicely done letter P and a yellow W. Tubbo's name was there too, slanted down like a waterfall on the left side. The patches were all of trees, flowers, and similar nature depictions with a few musical notes placed here or there.

Wilbur pulled a smaller paper bag from his cloth one, grabbing a sandwich from inside and biting into it, legs swaying along with the current of the water below. The sight made Techno a little hungry, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, stomach rumbling loud enough to be heard above the river’s flow. Wilbur snorted around his bite of sandwich, pulling another out of his bag and offering it out.

Techno took it from him, holding it in his lap for a moment before unwrapping it to take a bite. Sweet strawberry jelly burst flavor across his tongue, a short hum leaving Techno’s lips as he chewed.

“You brought me food?”

“Mhm.” Wilbur was already halfway done, a bit of the red jelly staining the side of his lip. “It’s been a while since you ate, I figured you’d be hungry.”

It hadn’t been that long, had it? Techno looked up, startled to see that the sun had climbed into an afternoon sky while he had zoned out, bright rays cast over the forest.  
“Huh…” Technoblade took another bite of his sandwich, a light breeze making the stray hairs that had fallen from his braid squirm in his peripheral. 

An unexpected consequence of coming home with Phil was that Techno had precious little to do. In the Arctic Empire he could patrol, or hunt down some poor idiot who was trying to sneak onto their land and show them a one way ticket to death’s door. But in Phil’s secluded little spot in the world, Techno had already gotten cabin fever. His weapons all had a spot in his closet and would be staying there until further notice. The closest he could get to his old self was finding an empty clearing and sparring with particularly thick oak trees.

Phil might be down for a round or two, something to pass the time and get their blood flowing. Techno made a mental note to ask him about it later, shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and swiping his hands together to remove the crumbs.

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Wilbur asked, leaning slightly to get a better look at the warped picture of Techno’s boots under the warping water.

“Eh.” Techno lifted one of his legs out of the water, tucking it under his opposite thigh. He wouldn’t relay to Wilbur that he couldn’t actually feel his foot, the frigid temperature stealing his sensations. The second leg was moved shortly after, Techno following Wilbur’s example of seating.

“Well, I’m going home.” Wilbur stood up, making his way back to the solid ground and grabbing his guitar. “You coming?”

There was an underlying question in Wilbur’s tone as he looked back at Techno, the pig himself nodding as he stood. 

“Sure.” 

They walked side by side on the way back to the house, occasionally breaking the tranquil silence of the forest with short small talk. Mostly Wilbur, making comments about his music or memories that sprung to mind at the sight of a mark in the tree bark or a particularly gnarled set of roots. Techno didn’t do much in the way of responding, giving short laughs or grunts when needed. Wilbur didn’t seem to mind, enjoying being listened to for the fleeting time they had.

When they walked through the doors, it was to the sight of Phil reading on the couch, a snoring Tommy and Tubbo cradled in the curve of either wing. It was cute, but Techno felt strange watching it. He gave a wave to Phil and ducked into the hall, heading back for his bedroom to take a seat on the bed and undo his boots. By now he’d regained the feeling in his toes, but they were still damp and cold from the soak. He dried his lower legs off and replaced his soggy boots with some worn sandals he’d gotten as a gift from Phil. Probably better footwear for the summer’s day anyway.

Techno set his boots on the porch, counting on the sun to dry them out by nightfall. Wilbur was situated under the shade of a tree down the path, his yellow sweater easy to spot among the greens and browns of his surroundings. He waved at Techno, music stopping instantly as he provided the salutation. Techno, with nothing better to do, made his way over to the other, taking a seat a couple feet away.

“Hey.”

Wilbur gave him a half smile, plucking a string on his guitar so a note played. Techno wasn’t sure which one.

“Hi.”

When Phil said they should talk, he probably didn’t mean a hesitant set of greetings cushioned by utter silence like they’d been doing. Any progress was good progress though, right?

“I think you should be sixteen.” Techno shifted his eyes onto Wilbur, blatantly as he tried to figure out what that could mean.  
“What?”

“You’re sixteen.”

“No I’m not.”

“You don’t know that!” Wilbur contended, pushing his glasses up as he leaned onto the rough bark of the tree behind him. “You said no one ever told you how old you are! So there’s no way to know you aren’t sixteen.”

Was there really a point to arguing? The only real argument there was that Techno didn’t want to be sixteen. He would’ve preferred being ageless, as he’d always been. Wilbur met Techno’s silent deadpan with a strong look of his own, not budging. He seemed to take the silence as a victory, yet another trait shared with Phil. The human smirked, shifting into a comfortable position to keep plucking at his guitar.

“Your birthday is in three days.”

“That seems pretty specific.” Techno thought he might be catching on now. “Any reason?”

“Maybe, maybe.” So that’s how it was gonna be. Techno nodded, trying to feign ignorance.

“So...nothin’ special happening in three days?”

“Well there might be one thing.”

“Hm.” Techno felt the corners of his mouth lift in a grin, shifting slightly so he could lean against the same tree Wilbur was. He let himself fall back into the gentle daze of sleep as Wilbur began to play again, light and sweet notes to guide Techno down the path to rest.

The news that Techno was sixteen was a dinnertime topic, apparently, when Wilbur brought it up as Phil was handing out plates. The adult of the house seemed confused, mostly, as Techno had been telling him for as long as they’d known each other that he had no clue how old he was. He had to explain the situation immediately, how Wilbur was joking and had assigned him an age and birthdate. Phil simply laughed it off and grabbed everyone a glass of water, but Techno knew that it wasn’t the end of the conversation. 

“Tech.” The initial tone made Techno cringe, debating on turning around and getting into this talk or just throwing himself out the bedroom window. With one option far more preferable than the other, Technoblade turned around and continued fastening the golden buttons on his cloak.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you and Will are getting along.”

Techno looked up, making eye contact with a grinning Phil. He didn’t think that this was how the interaction was going to go. Phil didn’t want to talk about anything else?

“Yeah...me too.” He wasn’t one for tough conversations anyway. 

“How are you settling in?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I heard you leave pretty quickly this morning.”

Oh. Techno clenched his jaw and felt his chest tighten with the telltale feeling of defense, shrugging as he looked around for something to do. Phil, looking as relaxed as ever while purposefully blocking the doorway, tried to catch his gaze.

“Felt like taking a walk.”

“Mhm.” Techno felt an intense sort of deja vu, eyebrows furrowing. “One step at a time, old friend.” Phil’s hand on his shoulder was welcoming and warm, but despite that Techno still felt on edge. He felt drained from the day, even if it was majorly positive, and Phil trying to block him in and pry an answer out of him was taking what little energy he had.

Phil seemed to recognize his discomfort, dropping the topic with a smooth distraction. If there was something they all had in common, it was avoidance tactics. 

“You should try sleeping in tomorrow.” Techno shrugged, patting Phil’s hand and following the other out of his bedroom.

“We’ll see.”

In the days of the Antarctic empire, he and Phil would patrol together. Two soldiers, together against the world, boots crunching through ice and snow to make sure their home was safe.

Techno had a new home now. A home no longer surrounded by ice and snow, but by tall oak trees and flowers. A home that was no longer filled with intent of blood and war. His new home was filled with the scent of warm meals, crackling hearths, and old books. 

On his evening patrol that night, Techno decided that he would be sleeping in.

**Author's Note:**

> finally getting back into the swing of writing with this fic. if you like it feel free to leave a kudos :3 if you wanna send a headcannon/oneshot request to my tumblr that would be pretty swag too. https://oh-cmon-lmanberg.tumblr.com/


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